


The Darkest Burning Star

by PrimalScream



Category: Black Sails
Genre: A little bit of angst, A little bit of pining, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Modern AU, Rimming, a little bit of cheating on a secondary character, a teeeeeensy bit of bondage so small if you blink you'll miss it, a tiny bit of daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 23:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14987792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimalScream/pseuds/PrimalScream
Summary: James is an A&R rep, John fronts a band with Eleanor, Max and Anne. Story centers around James/John.





	The Darkest Burning Star

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know where this came from and it's probably over self indulgent, but here we are anyway.

A month ago James had stumbled across a video of band doing a Nirvana cover. He’d closed his eyes and listened to probably one of the best covers of _Heart Shaped Box_ he’d ever heard. After further searching he’d found more than a dozen videos, all covers, ranging from R &B to death metal, and all of them nearly perfect. A search for the band turned up a basic website with their scheduled appearances and one original song. Two weeks later he headed to San Francisco.

Now he sits on a stool at a high top table in the back of a dive bar with a sticky floor, his attention directed at the darkened stage waiting to get a good look at all four members of the band. The videos James had seen weren’t well lit and he’d barely been able to make out the band members faces, but he’s pretty certain the only male in the band is the singer, which suits James just fine, too many men in a band and egos start to get in the way.

Suddenly the house lights flash twice and then go down completely. Seconds later, James hears the opening riff of _Crazy Train_. The crowd presses forward, a loud cheer going up as the stage lights come on. James had been right, three women and a male lead. Getting up from his seat he makes his way closer to the stage, his eyes never straying from the dark headed man leaning into the microphone. He’s small and lean with a head full of curls topped by a black fedora. The jeans he’s wearing are ripped lengthwise starting mid thigh and ending above his ankles and then tucked into a pair of dark red Dr Martens and paired with a sideless tank showing off well defined abs. James feels his pulse spike, his mouth suddenly dry. As cute as the hat is, James wishes for it to be gone so he can get a clear look at the guy’s face.

They segue into _Hard to Handle_ by the Black Crowes so flawlessly that you’d think they were the same song. As the singer starts to turn around the stage in circles, reminiscent of Chris Robinson himself, the hat goes flying and James gets a full on, crystal clear look at the guy’s face and James is ensnared. He has a barely there beard and mustache, high cheekbones and a pointy little chin, he’s completely gorgeous and James feels like he’s been kicked.

They get through three songs before he starts talking, “Hey, hey, hey. How you guys feeling tonight?” The crowd roars and the smile that lights up his face is breathtaking. “So hey, for those of you who don’t know, I’m John, that beautiful blonde over there on lead is Eleanor, back behind me at the drums is the incredibly talented Anne, and over here on bass,” John waggles his eyebrows as he walks toward the last woman on stage and drapes his arm over her shoulders, “is the love of my life, platonicaly speaking, Max.” He kisses the top of her head and then John slides back to the center of the state and puts the mic back on it’s stand, “If you guys don’t mind, we’re going to play a few songs and we hope you’ll sing along with us.” The crowd cheers once more and the band launches into _Silver Springs._

James will never admit it out loud, but it’s nearly better than Stevie’s version. He watches John sway, his body rocking, his eyes closed, his voice melodic, mesmerizing James where he stands. James barely refrains from sighing like the teenager he's apparently turning into. John has the charisma of David Lee Roth, the sensuality of Jim Morrison and the voice to back it all up. The band fits together like a jigsaw puzzle, every move between the four of them perfectly executed with a flowing ease that James has rarely seen. He hopes they can write as well as they cover other bands.

After the show and two encores James makes his way toward the back. He’s stopped by a man who is at minimum six and half feet tall and three feet wide. His arms alone are the size of tree trunks where he crosses them over his chest. Reaching into his pocket James produces a business card that reads _James Flint, Director A &R, Frontenac Records_

Squinting at it, the giant says, “Stay here.”

The guard comes back with a tall, dark haired guy that’s practically skin and bones and James thinks a stiff wind would knock him over. He holds his hand out, “Jack Rackham, Gaia’s Manager.”

James shakes his hand but is instantly distracted by John coming out of the hallway to the left. He’s naked from the waist up, his jeans unbuttoned, head bent as he dries his hair with the shirt he’d been wearing on stage. His chest is hairless, his pecs as well defined as his abs and the dark trail of hair leading down from his belly button into his barely hanging on pants is mouth watering. When John looks up, James averts his gaze back to Jack who’s eyebrow has climbed to the middle of his forehead before redirecting James, “Right, so we’ll just take a walk over here.”

“Who are you?” John calls out before Jack can usher him away.

“James Flint, A&R at Frontenac.”

John walks forward slowly, his hips rolling in a smooth gait that reeks of hot, dirty sex and James’s hands itch with want to palm John’s hips, to feel smooth skin under his fingertips as he pushes those jeans down. It wouldn't take much, John’s practically walking out of them as it is. James hands him a card and John motions him back, Jack and the burly guard, hot on their heels.

They turn into a room with beer and liquor sitting out on two sideboards, interspersed with what James thinks are skittles, and hero sandwiches, with a third table pushed against the far wall. Sitting on top it is an ashtray. He motions James to a chair, before turning to Jack, “I’ve got this, Jack, you can head out.” John sits across from James, lounging in the chair like he has all the time in the world, body relaxed, half smile on his face.

“As your manager--” Jack puts in.

John cuts him off, “You don’t manage shit, except Anne’s temper.” He softens the words with a smile and a wink.

Jack huffs but leaves them alone nonetheless.

James puts his forearms on the table and leans forward, “How long you been a band?”

John taps a Marlboro Light out of the pack to his left, “Four years. But we’ve known each other since grade school. We’re tight, and there’s no breaking us up. We've all been in different bands, it didn't work. This works.” The comment is pointed and James has to wonder just how many labels have been through here trying to pry John away from his band mates.

“Good because you have great chemistry and a cohesiveness that some bands never manage to find. It’s rare and exactly what Frontenac is looking for.”

James can see the set of John’ shoulders relax as he tilts his head to light the cigarette in his mouth. “How’d you find us?” He asks around the filter.

“Youtube.”

John laughs, “The age of information.”

“Do you only do covers?”

John ashes his cigarette onto the dirty floor before blowing out a thin stream of smoke, “We’ve got roughly sixty songs completed and recorded, another couple dozen in the works.”

“I’d like to hear some of them. No strings, no promises.”

“What are you offering?”

“That will depend on what I hear. If I like it, if I think we can work with it, upfront costs for an album. Contract with a four album minimum with an option to extend. Tours, merchandise, etc."

John watches him quietly, his eyes only slightly hazy, probably from the two beers he’d had on stage. He flicks the filter end of his cigarette with his thumb knocking the ash to the floor, “I’m gay. I’ve got a boyfriend, and I won’t hide it.”

 “As long as he’s not underage, we don’t really care who you fuck.”

“Max is a lesbian. Eleanor is bi.” John’s tone is almost defiant.

James chuckles, “Are you trying to scare me away? I’ve been out since I was seventeen. Like I said, as long as everyone is legal, fuck whoever you want.” John just continues to stare at him, “Look, John, I don’t know who’s been through here in the past and what they’ve said or done, but I’m not them. We’re interested in your music, not your social lives."

John nods, “The demos are on my laptop at home. I can email them.”

James pulls another card out of his pocket, writes his cell and personal email on the back and slides it across the table, “I’ll be waiting.” He presents John with one more card, "Your number?"

John scrawls his number across the back of the second card. James picks it up and then stands, “And quit smoking, it’ll ruin your voice.”

“Didn’t hurt Ozzy Osbourne any.”

“Ozzy didn’t have a hope in hell of ever sounding as good as you do. And if he had, he would have stopped smoking.” James turns to go, meeting over as far as he’s concerned.

“Robert Plant, Freddie Mercury.” John tosses out at his retreating back.

James throws his hands up and whirls back around, “Jesus Christ, keep smoking then, it’s your fucking career.”

John smirks at him but stubs the cigarette out in the nearby ashtray, “I’ll send the files over tomorrow.”

James nods and watches John walk out of the room, his eyes tracing the way the denim clings to his thighs and ass. James thinks about running his tongue down John's spine, spreading his perfectly round cheeks and licking at his hole. When he turns to go he’s met with the raised brow of the security guard, he’d clearly caught James’s slow perusal of John’s body. James just shrugs and walks around him.

***

By noon James has yet to hear from John. Getting antsy he rings John. It goes to voicemail. He tries again, this time John answers, his voice rough and sleep thick, “What.”

“It’s almost one.”

“Yeah, and.” James can hear John rummaging around on the other end of the phone and then the distinct snick of a lighter before hearing John inhale deeply.

“You were going to send me the demos.” James tries to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“Fucking Christ, I was up until four. I’ll get them to you, simmer down.”

James hears the muffled rumble of a deep voice and then John sucks in a sharp breath before a soft breathy moan breaks over the line.

“John?”

“Yeah, I’ll send them. I have to go.” John’s voice is heavy and thick. James hears him press a key, but the phone doesn’t disconnect and James can hear John full out moan, _“Fuck, yeah, just like that, suck me.”_

James’s cock twitches, and he knows he needs to disconnect but he’s frozen, his heart racing, his palms sweating as he hears John say, _“Want you to fuck me.”_ He hits the end button fast before letting his phone fall to his desk as he leans back in his chair. He can’t help but close his eyes and think about the way John had looked last night. Sweat dotting his forehead, his hair damp and hanging in ringlets, bare chest the color of golden wheat, pants hanging low on his slim hips. He’d been a wet dream. James’s cock swells. Shit, he doesn’t need this, especially not if their songs are any good and James signs them. Not to mention the existence of a boyfriend. James isn’t a homewrecker.

But his brain gleefully supplies the memory of the way John had moaned, of the way his voice had been thick with desire. James wonders if John would moan that prettily for him if James got on his knees, yanked those pants down and sucked John’s cock to the root. A shudder works it way down his spine, his cock pulses in his pants and James slides his hand inside, he’s hard and there’s already a small drop of fluid at the tip. Smoothing it down the shaft James starts to jack himself, his eyes falling closed. He pictures John under him, his body bare, his hair spread out under him, as he arches into James’s touch. James works his cock faster, his other hand opening the button and pulling down the zip before pushing his underwear and pants down to his hips. His cock slides along his palm, the head poking out of his fist with each stroke. He shoves his shirt up and tugs at his nipple, hisses out a breath at the sharp sting.

He fucks into his fist, pictures John, his head tipped back the way he had been on stage last night, chest heaving for breath as James fucks him, that sweet, silky voice begging for it. James’s balls pull up, his stomach clenches and then he’s coming over his fist, teeth clamped together to keep from making a sound as he shakes with aftershocks.

An hour later an email shows up with two dozen files attached. James pulls out his headphones, plugs them in and relaxes back into his chair. From the second he hits play John’s voice hypnotizes him. He sounds the way honey feels, sweet and smooth and rich, sex dripping from every syllable while behind him there’s a driving, demanding beat, cut together with guitar riffs that explode like the best fireworks and a bass line the pulls it together seamlessly. When James had told John that Frontenac was interested in the whole package he hadn’t been lying, for as good as John’s voice is, he’s nothing without the women backing him.

James plays each track three times, taking notes during the second and third plays. Before he’s even finished he’s firing off an email to his boss letting him know that the trip had panned out and was going to offer Gaia a contract. He sends a second email to John asking for a meet with him and the band in the next few days. By the time John responds it’s well into the evening and James barely refrains from wondering if it’s because he’d gotten the fuck he’d asked for. They set a meeting for Tuesday at two PM at the bar of friend who lets them rehearse for free.

***

James walks into _The Ranger_ at quarter to two to the sound of a Whitesnake tune blaring through the speakers but that’s not David Coverdale’s voice. The band is on a tiny corner stage, John’s eyes are closed as he sings an iconic eighties hit. James nearly swallows his tongue when John drop to his knees and lays back almost flat out, undulating like a serpent to mimic the single most panty wetting performance of the decade when Adrian Vandenburg all but fucked his guitar in the video for _Still of the Night_. James’s reaction to John now is no less extreme than his sisters had been to Adrian then. James’s cock twitches as he watches John writhe on the floor, his body rocking to the deep beat of the song. He pops up in a single motion and is back at the mic in a flash, his hair swinging around his face. James can’t look away as John slides his hand slowly down his stomach, over his groin and then back up as he purrs lyrics into the microphone. James feels his pulse skip a beat at the way Johns drags his fingers over his cock on the way back up.

“He’s amazing, right?” James is startled by a low voice to his left. “Whatever it is that rock stars have that makes them rocks stars, John has it.” Looking over he sees a man in his mid to late twenties, same height as James, dark hair, dark eyes, good looking, holding his hand out, “Trevor Blankenship, John’s boyfriend.”

Trevor’s tone is cool, his look assessing and James realizes he’s just been caught ogling the man’s boyfriend. James thinks he needs to get his shit together. James shakes Trevor’s hand, “They all are, their chemistry is remarkable.”

Once the song is over John hops off the stage with a smile and makes his way over to them with that same slow, syrupy walk that makes James think of lazy, early morning sex. When John reaches them Trevor drops his arm over John’s shoulders and tips his head for a small, chaste kiss, the message clear. James rubs his tongue against the back of his teeth and looks across the room to the rest of the band.

As the girls make their way over, John untangles himself from Trevor to hug each of them before turning back to James, “James, this is Anne Bonny, Jack’s much, much better half.” Anne just nods. John sighs and pushes Eleanor forward, “The is Eleanor Guthrie, in addition to lead, she handles the books and money.”

Eleanor waves, “Of which there is very little by the way.”

“And that is Max.”

“Max….”James intones.

“Just Max.” She replies.

“Like Madonna.”

Max just looks at him, “Only if you mean to make me as rich as her.”

“I’ll do what I can.” James winks and she doesn’t budge, her gaze never wavering making James shift on his feet. “Right, so let's get to it.”

James pushes two tables together and motions everyone to sit, “I listened to the demos. I like what I hear. There needs to be a little clean up, a change in some of the mixing, a few rewrites, but I think you guys are exactly what I’m looking for. I’d like to hear the rest of what you have recorded. You can bring the tracks into the studio and we’ll go over each one.”

James flips through the bag at his feet, he pulls out four identical stacks of paper, “Preliminary contracts, I want you to take them to have them looked at by your own attorney.”

James watches John flip through the pages before lighting a cigarette, “What’s the rundown?”

“One hundred and fifty thousand advance for album sales. That doesn’t include the royalties from merchandising or ticket sales. A contract for four albums, with a two album additional option. Standard clauses. Up until recording is finished you have the option to drop out of the contract, however whatever has been disbursed, advanced and spent on your behalf will have to be reimbursed.”

They go over a few of the clauses, James encouraging them once again to have their own lawyers look at the contracts. When they start talking about tours James mentions wardrobe being brought in and Anne balks.

“Wardrobe? I ain’t wearing no fucking mini skirt bullshit. Jack tell them I ain’t wearing that shit.”

Before Jack can even open his mouth, James reassures her, “Anne, no one is going to make you wear anything you don’t want. You tell us what to buy and we buy it and get it to you, that’s all.”

“But if, we wanted to wear a mini skirt--” Eleanor trails off and flicks her eyes over to Max, but Max just crosses her arms over her chest and looks away. Just as James starts to open his mouth he feels a kick from under the table. A single shake of John’s head is all it takes to get James to move onto to a different subject.

After an hour of discussion, John stands up and cups his hands around his mouth to yell toward the back of the bar, “Vane, bring me the Blue label.”

John pours drinks for everyone and even though James tries to decline, he eventually relents in the face of John’s puppy eyes.

***

Two weeks later, James has signed contracts. John sits in his office at four in the afternoon, skin tight denim, and a fitted t shirt showing off a body that makes James believe in God.

“I’ll send these up to legal first thing in the morning. They’ll get the first disbursement check cut within the next few days.”

John nods, “What are the odds?”

“Of?”

John sits up, rubs his palms over his thighs, “Us being successful.”

“I guess that depends on what you deem successful. The days of supergroup stardom are pretty much over. That ended in the late eighties. But there’s a market for your sound. People who will buy albums, and go see tours and buy t shirts. Those people still exist. Will you ever be Aerosmith rich? I can’t say, but I believe you’ll be successful.”

John nods, “I need a favor.” He looks away, over James’s shoulder and out the window.

“Name it.”

“We need a trainer on tour.”

“Like a fitness trainer?”

“Yeah, fitness, life, whatever, just someone to--” John breaks off and looks back to James, his eyes shuttered, “Max has been through some rough shit. She sees a therapist if it gets too heavy, but for the most part yoga or boxing or whatever she does helps the most. She goes to at least one class a day.”

“Yeah of course. But I need to know what to expect.”

“I can’t...that’s her story to tell. She’d never ask for it herself, so I’m doing it for her. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

“John--” James’s tone is admonishing.

“James, please.” It brings James up short, the look in John’s eyes pleading and James is sucker for pretty blue eyes.

“Fine, but I’m throwing your ass under the bus is shit goes sideways.”

John smiles widely and James has to catch his breath, “You got it.”

They sit in silence watching one another for several minutes before James’s desk phone buzzes and it’s Sheri, James’s assistant, “James, Terry is here.”

James looks at his watch and realizes he’s ten minutes late, “Shit.”

John levers himself out of the chair, hand extended. James rises and slides his palm against John’s. James feels a tingle all the way to his shoulder, “I’ll send the finalized contracts back when legal is done and then we’ll schedule studio time.”

“Sounds good.” John is halfway to the door when he turns back quickly catching James in a rather long perusal of his ass. He smirks at James before saying. “Come by _The Ranger_ Friday, we’re having a celebration.”

James knows he shouldn’t, but he agrees anyway, “Should have the contracts back by then, I can bring them by.”

John nods and salutes James with two fingers before walking out.

***

By the time James gets to the bar on Friday night it’s fairly clear they all have a huge head start on him. John sees him almost as soon as he walks in the door and it only take a few minutes before he’s pushing into James’s space, his arms going over James’s shoulders, his body pressing in. James can smell him, sweat and cigarette smoke and some kind of fruity shampoo. James returns the hug with one arm, keeping his hand firmly above John’s waist.

When John pulls back, James points at the bag on his shoulder, “You guys sober enough for this?”

John just nods and takes him by the wrist. He collects the girls and then leads them all to the back, the noise from the bar fading with each step. The five of them crowd around the table as James lays the contracts out, “You’re all officially Frontenac artists as of three PM today. Congratulations.”

The four of them look at each other before a group hug, Anne being the first to disengage. James hands Eleanor the advance check, “You and I need to go over how to fill out the requisitions forms. Whatever you need for the tour, for the band, recording, that’s all covered by us. We’ll set up a time to go over them. Assuming you’ll still be handling the finances for now?”

Eleanor snorts, “As if I’d trust any of them with money.” She takes the check and folds it in fours before putting it in her back pocket.

“Alright, I’ll set up a meeting to go over the smaller items for later this week.” James smiles at them, can’t help but feel a little bit of pride for the happiness shining in their faces. The girls make their way out of the room and John goes to follow but James tugs at his shirt.

“What you asked? It’s taken care of. His name is Joji, he teaches mixed martial arts and advanced yoga. I’ll introduce him at the meeting we set. I’ll play it as something Frontenac does for all new artists on their first tours, something to help with the day to day stress. He won’t know anything differently, he’ll treat you all the same.”

John looks at him, his eyes measuring, and then he’s flinging himself back into James’s arms, his mouth pressed to the side of James’s head, “Thank you.”

James arms come up around John’s body, his hands pressed to John’s back. John’s body is hard and warm, his hair tickling James’s nose, “You’re welcome.” John goes up on his toes, hugs James’s tighter, his body sliding against James and James has to stifle a moan. Wills his cock to behave. John pulls back slowly, his hands on James’s shoulders, his hair getting caught in James’s beard. James doesn’t let go, his hands sliding over John’s back, down to his hips, his thumbs stroking John’s sides. John’s eyes drop to James’s mouth and when he looks back up, his eyes are hooded. John wets his lower lip before tucking it under his front teeth and James can’t look away, feels his breath catch and then speed up. John sways closer, his head tipping.

“John you back here? Max said you got the contracts.” Jack’s voice echoes down the hall, followed by his footsteps coming closer. They part quickly, John running his hands through his hair and James turning to the table to stack the contracts neatly, his back to John.

“Yeah, all signed, sealed and delivered.” John’s voice fades as he walks Jack back the way he came.

James blows out a breath and collapses in a chair. What the fuck was he thinking? James berates himself for being weak. He fucking knows better. He’s the king of non fraternization. What the fuck is it about John that he can’t let go. He needs to figure it out fast and then kick it to the curb before he loses his sanity.

Hours later James stumbles out the back door looking for some fresh air only to find John propped up against the brick wall next to the exit. John’s head turns slowly, his eyes raking down James’s body as he blows smoke out of of his nose.

“You’re awfully fit for a guy who drives a desk.” James can feel his cheeks heat and he’s not sure how to respond. “What are you doing out here mister label man?”

“Looking for you. Needed some air.”

John cocks his head, “Looking for me?”

"So, Eleanor and Max?” James hadn’t been able to help but notice the weird dynamic they had. They’ve been circling each other all night.

John sighs and rubs his hand over his face, “It’s a lot of history, they were a thing once. Eleanor choose college, and her father’s money, over Max. When El realized it was a mistake she came home, but Max still refuses to take her back.”

“College, that was six years ago?” It boggles James’s mind that she hasn’t moved on.

“Exactly. So, how long you been in the record business?” John’s voice is slow, a little slurred. James isn’t fairing much better, they’ve spent the bettor part of four hours celebrating and it’s been a long time since James has indulged quite this much.

“Almost thirty years.” James leans his shoulder against the brick next John, “You guys are going to do fine. I know what sells.”

“Sex is what sells.”

“Well you’ve certainly got that covered.” James makes a perusal of his own, all the way from the top of John’s head to the tips of his toes.

John flicks his cigarette away and pushes off the wall, turns to face James, only inches between them, “You think I’m sexy, James?” There’s amusement in John’s voice and James can’t tell if its at his expense or not.

“You know you are, you don’t need me to tell you so.”

John runs his tongue along his bottom lip and James follows it with his eyes. James wants to taste him, wants to scoop John up in his arms and do all the filthy wrong things he’s been thinking about from the first time he’d seen John.

“And what about the girls, are they sexy?” John’s finger trails down the center of James’s chest, a soft tickle through his dress shirt.

“Yeah, they’re great looking women.”

John inches closer, “But you don’t like women do you, James? I wonder what you do like.”

Curly headed singers with blue eyes and too much charm for their own good is what James wants to say. James feels like the question is a trap, John knows he’s out, told him so the first time they met, so he says nothing, just continues to stare at John. John’s eyes glitter in the dark, his pupils wide as they strain to see in the almost pitch blackness.

James is saved by the door banging open and Trevor stepping out. He looks between them, takes in the wet sheen of John’s mouth, the lack of distance between their bodies and James sees his lips purse before walking right back inside. John’s eyes close and he blows out a breath, jaw clenching before he moves around James and follows Trevor. James makes the smart move and calls an Uber to take him home.

***

James pushes the paperwork to Eleanor's side of the table.

"Fuck sake, these are four pages long. I have to fill these out each time? For every item?"

James winces at the incredulity in her voice, "Unfortunately."

She looks to John, "You better find another guitarist, I'm going to be spending all my time filling out useless paperwork."

Before anyone can answer Anne barges through the door, "You said no skirts, what the fuck is this shit?" She jerks her thumb over her shoulder to the harried wardrobe assistant behind her.

"It's just for a photo shoot. We can change it." James keeps his voice level as he looks at the woman behind Anne who is holding the offending skirt.

Anne points her finger at him, "You fucking better." She settles herself in a chair on the far side of the room, glaring at the woman still standing at the door.

Before she can turn to go Eleanor asks, "Can I see that skirt?"

Anne snorts, "It won't fit over your hips."

Eleanor fish mouths at her and James motions with his head to the girl at the door to leave, which she does quickly.

"I suppose that's true, I'm not shaped liked a twelve year old boy, after all."

"Bitch."

"Cunt."

John sits next to James smiling, eyes twinkling as he watches Anne and Eleanor bicker. Eleanor pops up from her chair and moves across the room, James tenses, preparing for a fight but Eleanor just sits herself in Anne's lap and wiggles around, "How do my hips feel now?" She keeps moving around on Anne while Anne huffs at her until they're both laughing. James has never seen anything like it.

"Come on, lets go see if I can fit my ass into that skirt."

The two of them leave arm in arm and James turns to John. John just shrugs. James lets it go.

The two of them head to the basement where wardrobe is housed. When they get there John whistles low, "I don't even like tits and I'd be willing to smother myself in yours right now." They've got Max in a long, colorful flowing skirt, and a corset that pushes her boobs up and out, her hair trailing down her back. James has to admit she's looks stunning.

Penny, the head of wardrobe motions John to a dressing room. When he steps out James has to bite back a groan. They've put him in skin tight leather pants, with clearly nothing under them. The leather molds to his cock and James can't help but stare. The shirt is unbuttoned half way down his chest, showing off just enough of his torso to be a complete tease, the sleeves are rolled to his elbows and bracelets adorn both wrists. Every inch of him screams rock star. Anne clears her throat beside him and James tears his eyes away from John to look at her. Which is an obvious mistake as she stands there smirking at him knowingly. James bristles, "Don't you have a skirt to try on?" She scowls at him before turning on her heel and leaving.

When he turns his head back toward John, John is closing in on him. "So, what do you think?" John turns in a slow circle, stopping with his back to James, he runs his hands over his ass, his fingers spread wide. He squeezes himself and James chokes on his own spit as he tries to wet his very dry mouth. "Can you even breathe in those?"

John laughs softly, moving closer to James, "I can breathe, I can sit, I could even straddle a horse if I needed to. It's smooth and it gives." His voice is low, suggestive, he reaches out for James's hand, "Feel how supple it is." He places James's hand on his hip, slides it down until James's palm is on his thigh, he tenses the muscle under James's palm and James snatches his hand back like it's on fire.

James takes a quick step back, "I have meetings. I'll see you next week." He turns tail and runs away like the devil is chasing him. James has to consider that maybe he is.

***

The first two months after Gaia are signed are spent writing, recording, and re-recording, everyone crowded in the studio, James getting to see first hand just how intertwined the band is. There’s not an ounce of infighting despite the very obvious personal feelings between Eleanor and Max, they manage to always be professional. James can see real love there, the kind that doesn’t allow for bitterness, or pettiness. James is wholly impressed.

The following two months are spent editing and mixing, the group at the studio getting smaller each day, until eventually it’s mostly just Anne, James and John. James had spent his twenties living at the studio, learning the panel and sitting beside some of the old timers watching them in action. Now he accompanies all the artists he signs from the beginning to the end, only stepping back once touring starts.

James is poised at the threshold of the studio, snacks and drinks in hand when he hears raised voices coming from within, “He’s all you ever talk about, John. Every conversation we have, it’s James this and James that.”

“You’re joking right? He’s the fucking reason we’re in this studio. If it weren’t for him, we’d still be playing dive bars for beer and burgers.”

“And I’m sure you’re more than happy to show your appreciation.”

James can practically hear the sneer in Trevor’s voice. Trevor isn’t his biggest fan, and James knows full well why. There’s an underlying tension between he and John, one that flares to life when they’re in the thick of it, bouncing ideas and working shoulder to shoulder to solve an issue. James and John connect on a level that Trevor doesn’t share with John. He’s not musically inclined and he doesn’t know or want to learn the process. John and he have a chemistry that is tangible and James understands that Trevor feels threatened by it.

“What the fuck does that mean?” John sounds wounded and James hates it.

“You know exactly what it means. It wouldn’t be the first time would it?”

“That was once, four years ago.”

“It doesn’t matter how long ago it was. You still need something I can’t give you.”

“Trev, come on, we’ve been over this.”

John’s voice is soft, placating. It peaks James’s interest, makes him want to know what it is that John wants and needs that his own boyfriend can’t provide.

“Tell me you never think about it.” There’s dead silence before a sharp laugh, “You can’t, can you? I’m going home. I’ll see you there.”

James ducks behind the door so Trevor won’t see him. Just as Trevor’s steps echo down the hall James hears a crash from inside the studio. He counts to one hundred and then makes his way in to see John cleaning glass up off the floor.

“Everything okay?”

John startles, “Yeah, clumsy, knocked it off playing air guitar.” John’s smile is forced but James doesn’t comment he just sets the sodas and chips down on the panel edge and helps John clean up the mess.

They spend two hours trying to find the right mix for track five, but neither of them likes the other’s suggestions and it quickly devolves into a shouting match.

“Why the fuck do we always have to do things your way.” John’s face is red, his eyes spitting fire at James.

“Because I fucking said so.” James nearly shouts it directly into John’s face. He doesn’t know when they got so close but suddenly he can smell John, practically feel the heat radiating off his body and James’s knees go a little weak. James had hoped that his attraction to John would eventually recede, but in the months they’ve been in the studio it’s only grown. James’s eyes drop to John’s mouth, his lips are damp, a thin layer of John’s ever present chapstick clinging to the skin. His hand moves on it’s own, his thumb rubbing against John’s slick bottom lip. John sucks in a sharp breath and James’s eyes jerk up in time to see John’s lashes flutter as he swallows hard, his eyes going dark. John’s head tilts back half an inch, the very tip of his tongue touches the pad of James’s thumb. It only serves to break what little resolve James had left.

He slants his mouth over John’s and twists their tongues together. John whimpers, his arms going around James’s waist to drag him closer. James propels him back until John’s back bangs into the glass side of the booth. John’s mouth opens wide under his, his own tongue chasing James’s as he molds their bodies together. They fit like they were made for each other, every empty space James has is suddenly filled by John. James deepens the kiss, presses against John, his thigh sliding between John’s legs. John’s hands work their way up the back of James’s shirt and the hot slide of John’s palms over his spine makes him shiver. John hikes his leg, tilts his pelvis and then they’re sliding together. John rips his mouth away to moan low against James’s throat, his mouth open and panting. James lifts John, his back pressed against the glass, his legs wrapping around James’s waist as James shoves against him hard, their cocks grinding together through layers of fabric.

John bites and sucks at the side of James’s neck, his tongue leaving a wet trail behind, goosebumps rising on James’s arms. A door slams down the hall startling them both, James nearly dropping John as reality comes rushing back. James steps away, his hands tunneling through his hair as he tries to catch his breath. Taking three huge steps back he shakes his head, “Fuck, I’m sorry, that was…you’re…I have to go.”

James rushes out of the room, leaving John slumped against the wall breathing hard. Hurrying out of the building he misses Anne standing against the wall directly across from the studio. By the time James makes it to his car his breathing has slowed. He sits behind the wheel and waits for his heart to stop pounding. He can’t believe he’d been so stupid. He knows better, he fucking knows better than this. His self flagellation is interrupted by his ringing phone. Seeing John’s name he nearly doesn’t answer.

“Come back.” John pleads.

“I can’t, not tonight.”

“I wanted it too.” John’s voice is as soft as James has ever heard it.

James blows out a breath, “It doesn’t matter. You’re with Trevor and I’m in a position of power over you. It’s wrong on every level, John. Go home, we’ll start again tomorrow.” James doesn’t wait for an answer before hanging up and driving away.

From there on James makes sure they’re never alone in the studio, someone is always there. Either one of the band, someone from the label, even once the maintenance guy. James can only take so much temptation. James doesn’t know what, if anything, John told Trevor about the kiss but Trevor seems to have laid off and is back to being mostly silent and supportive.

***

They spend a total of eight months in the studio, before finally coming up with a fifteen song album everyone is happy with.

At the launch party James hangs back, lets John and the girls shine the way they were always meant to. Late, or early, as the case may be, James is leaning against the bar, his eyes drawn to John and Trevor across the room. Whatever had been happening between them must have resolved itself if the way they cling to one another is any indication. James has yet to figure out how to rid himself of the driving want for John that seems to eat at him every day, but he hopes that the next ten and half months apart will quell the heat inside him. John will be out on tour in support of the album and as far from James’s reach as can be.

He’s startled by Anne’s voice next to him, “They’re something, yeah?”

James nods, downs the rest of this drink before sitting the empty glass on the bar, “Yeah, most people never find what they have. They’re lucky.”

Anne hums, “I’ve known John more years than I haven’t. I know his type, and Trevor ain’t it. But John doesn’t think he’s worth it, so he settles”

With that she’s gone, dragging Jack out the door by his sleeve. James doesn’t know what the fuck he’s supposed to do with that information. John is without a doubt the most self confident person James has ever met, he can’t imagine John staying in a relationship that wasn’t exactly what he wanted. The next time he looks up John is making his way over, Trevor nowhere in sight.

John leans into him, his arms going over James’s shoulders in a hug, his mouth against James’s ear, “I just want to say thank you for everything. You’ve been amazing.” James holds him briefly, soaking up the way John feels against him before putting distance between them.

“There’s nothing to thank me for. You guys did all the hard work. You deserve it, John, all of you.”

“We leave in four days, I’d like to see you before then.” John plucks at the front of James’s shirt, his head tilted slightly and looking up at James through his lashes. James has a vision of throwing John over his shoulder and running away with him.

Instinctively James knows he means alone, and James knows it can’t happen. The two of them alone together is a recipe for disaster, “I wish I could, but I’m flying to Denver tomorrow, I’ll be there a week. I’ll catch you on the tour though. I’ll be through a few of the same cities at the same time.”

The smile John gives him is feral, “You’re a fucking liar.” Without any warning John’s mouth is on his. The kiss is quick and hard, the barest swipe of John’s tongue and it leaves James filled with longing as he watches John walk away.

***

John calls him from the road every few days. The first call is tense, each calling the other’s bluff.

“If you didn’t want to see me before we left all you had to do was say so.” John’s tone is biting.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to see you. It’s that we can’t and you know it.”

“I keep telling you it’s fucking mutual.” James can practically hear the way John grits his teeth.

“Yet you still have a boyfriend.” James reminds him.

They end the call in a stalemate and John doesn’t call back for almost two weeks. When he does he’s apologetic and they drop the subject, moving on to what John thinks of the Midwest, how he feels about tour buses and communal showers.

“Hows Joji?”

“He’s really great, doesn’t say much, but Max really likes him. Enough to make Eleanor jealous.” John laughs, “You should see her face when Max is with him training. Max would never go for him, but everyone needs their ego checked every once in a while and this is Max’s way of getting back at her in a mostly innocent way.”

“As long as it’s not causing undue tension.”

“No, they’re fine, they never let it get that far.” Before James can ask how, he hears rustling in the background and then Trevor’s voice, “Who you talking to, babe?”

“James.” James hears the hesitation in John’s voice. So all is not well after all, James thinks.

There’s a short derisive laugh, “Of course. Who else would you need to hide to talk to.” James can hear the slamming door all the way in California.

“Fuck, I have to go.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? It’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Are you performing some Jedi mind trick, making me want you?”

“John--”

“Don’t. I’ll talk to you later.”

The line disconnects and James sighs. Eight hundred miles away and he still manages to fuck shit up.

***

Most of their calls center around inane conversations about where the band has been, what they’ve seen and where they’re going next, interspersed with John’s thankfulness which warms James from the inside. Only once do they slip, only once does James curse the things keeping them apart. It’s a drunken three am call that James relives every night thereafter.

James is only mildly alarmed at the hour, “John? Everything okay?”

There’s a beat of silence and then, “James.” His name is slurred on what James can only call a wistful sigh. He’s is instantly alert knowing this call is not like any of their others.

“John, you should be asleep.” James admonishes softly.

“I tried. I failed.” There’s a short huffing laugh, “Do you know where I am? I’m hiding in the bathroom. The bathroom, James.” John laughs for a solid minute before continuing. “I’m hiding in the bathroom because I woke up hard from a dream about you.” John pauses, sighs and then starts again, “Do you...do you know what it’s like? Wanting you like this, still, after all these months. I remember the way you felt against me.” John moans into the phone and James sits up in bed.

“John, what are you doing?” It’s a dumb question, James knows the answer even as he asks.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m stroking my cock, James.” Another soft moan and James has to bite his tongue. “I’m thinking about your mouth and your hands and your body and I’m getting myself off. I can’t stop wanting you. I’ve tried so hard.” A sharp hiss of breath, “I have the perfect boyfriend. He’s smart and funny and fucking gorgeous, but I can’t get off with him anymore unless I’m thinking of you.”

“John,” James can hear the regret in his voice, “you--”

“Don’t fucking say it.” John’s tone is sharp, even around the near panting breath, “Just don’t. Just get me off, James, tell me what you’d do to me.”

Against his better judgment James closes his eyes and lets himself have John for this single moment, “First I’d suck you. I want to taste your cock. I want to feel it heavy and thick on my tongue. I want to feel the hard push of you into my throat, I want to choke on you.”

John hums, and then another soft moan that makes James’s own cock twitch where it’s trapped in his sleep pants. “I’d open you up with my tongue, fuck you with it until you were dripping, get my tongue so deep inside you. Would you let me? Would you let me eat your pretty little hole, John.”

“Yes, please, yes.” John’s breath is ragged and James can hear the sound of the skin on skin, it makes him ache.

“I want to touch you, John. I want to touch you so badly, it’s all I can think about. I think about that kiss every day.” James doesn’t try to sensor himself, “I think about the way you tasted and the way you felt and the way you sounded. I want you so fucking much I’m crazy with it. I want to fuck you in every room in my house, I want to hear you scream my name. I want to spread you out over my glass top desk and make you come so hard you can’t speak. I want to get my cock so deep inside you that you’ll never remember what it was like before I was there.”

John moans his name with a hiccuping sob that goes straight to James’s cock. James strokes himself fast as he listens to John come with desperate little whines. He hears John’s breath start to even out as a hum of satisfaction comes through the line. James tries to keep quiet, keep his own activities undetected.

“Touch..touch yourself, please. I want to hear you come. I need it, James. Please.”

James does, his hand flies over his cock, his breath hitching. Tight grip as his palm skids over the head, he moans, John’s answering voice in his ear, “Yeah, let me hear you.”

James moans again, his breath stuttering as his hips thrust up, he’s so close now, his balls pulling tight, his legs shaking and then Johns says, “Come for me, James.” his voice is sex rough and deep and James is helpless to do anything but obey.

James waits several beats before speaking softly, “We can’t do this again.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

James can hear the despair in John’s voice, “It’s not your fault, John. This is all on me, I should have never kissed you.”

“I wanted you before that. I saw you in the crowd that night, before you came backstage. I wanted you then.” John’s voice is soft and sleepy.

“John--” He’s cut off by the sound of knocking coming from John’s end of the phone.

“Shit, I have to go.” John whispers just before the line goes dead. James barely refrains from throwing his phone across the room. He makes a resolution not to think about John, not to think about what they just did. He scrubs his hand over his face before pulling his pants down and off. After cleaning his stomach and hand he tosses them across the room, he tries getting back to sleep only to hear John moan his names in his head every time he closes his eyes.

***

Three more weeks of phone calls from the road, successfully ignoring the elephant in the room, talking about the most mundane shit known to man. It’s enough to make James want to take up heavy drinking.

“Where you at today?” James looks out the window behind his desk.

“St. Louis. Went up in the arch.”

“Yeah? What did you think?”

“Actually, it was pretty fucking amazing.” John’s voice takes on a note of excitement, “You go all the way up and there are these tiny little window at the top and you can look out and just see for miles. And the fucking thing moves. Holy shit, James, we were up there, and we’re looking out and it starts to sway. It was really fucking cool, until Anne started to freak the fuck out.”

James chuckles, “It’s a pretty spectacular view.”

“I wish--” John cuts off, the implied ‘you were there’ left unsaid. James hears him sigh over the line.

“Where to next?” James tries to keep his voice level.

“Chicago. Looking forward to Boystown.”

James does laugh at that, “I’m sure you are. Just behave yourself and try not to end up in the tabloids.”

“I’m always a good boy, James.” John’s voice drops an octave and James feels his gut clench and his cock twitch. He can only imagine just how good John can really be. Any answer that James might have is completely inappropriate so he just stays silent. After a few seconds John sighs once more, “I better go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Safe travels, John.”

A day later Anne sends him a video from their encore in Chicago. When James hits play he wishes immediately that he hadn’t. When they started picking songs for the tour, they’d decided to select twelve covers and rotate them. This one wasn't one of them, which means John picked it off the cuff. The girls rarely veto him when he wants to play something not on the list.

James watches John sway to the opening beat of _Do I Wanna Know_ by the Artic Monkeys. His hand hovers over his mouse ready to close the window just as John opens his mouth, his voice smooth and seductive. The video zooms and James can see his eyes are closed, both hands wrapped over the mic. James thinks he’s beautiful, sweat at his temples, his hair damp and bordering on frizzy, his shirt hanging open, his pants slipping down his hips. James wants him so much it’s nearly blinding.

When John opens his eyes the camera catches it and it’s like he’s staring right into James’s soul as he sings _We could be together if you wanted to_. James closes the window without finishing the video.

The next day Anne sends him another video, their cover of _Fade Into You_ by Mazzy Star. John had fought tooth and nail to keep this one song on the set list. The rest of the band had deemed it too much of a downer and John had refused to budge. James wishes with everything in him that John had lost that battle as he watches the sweet, soulful way John sings, his body almost completely still, just his head tilting occasionally. James doesn’t understand why Anne feels the need to torture him this way.

James replies to Anne’s email with a simple, _Do you want me to block you_.

Her reply hours later makes James gnash his teeth, _Just thought you might want to see how your boy is doing_.

“He’s not my boy.” James says to absolutely no one. He thinks if he says it loud enough he’ll start to believe it.

***

John calls at two in the afternoon on a Tuesday and James is instantly on alert. John rarely, if ever, calls during the day, usually only after shows when everyone else is at the after party.

“There are going to be some articles, I wanted to warn you.” His voice is somber, reserved.

“What kind of articles?” James sit up in his chair, paperwork forgotten.

“Trev left, we’re over. He...we’d been fighting a lot, we weren’t careful. The press may have overheard.”

James stands and walks to his window, “Overheard what?”

James can hear the tremor in John’s voice, “A few weeks after that night, when I was lit, I told him. I told him how I feel about you. What we’d done.”

“Fuck, John.” James presses his forehead to the glass. This is the last thing any of them need.

“I thought maybe if I told him, maybe we could work through it, that he and I could get back to where we were, go back to when things were good. But every time we fought, he’d throw it in my face. It was stupid and I’m sorry and I didn’t mean to drag you into this.” John’s voice sounds so small and James wants to comfort him.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I was already neck deep.” James struggles to keep himself from hyperventilating, if this gets out, it could be an absolute disaster. “Who were the reps on the road, I might have some people I can call to keep it out of the rags.”

“That--that’s not all. I gave an interview to Rolling Stone, I can’t remember what I said, Trevor had just left, I was mess. Too much beer, not enough sense.”

James grits his teeth and blows out a breath,“We’ll handle it, you worry about your next show. We have people for this, John, don’t sweat it.”

Before the calls ends John says, “James, when I get back, I want to see you. I want to talk about this, us.”

Against his better judgement, James agrees.

James makes a dozen phone calls and manages to get himself laughed at just as many times.

***

Three days later Ed Teach, VP of A&R, walks through his door and drops two newspapers and three magazines on his desk.

“Would you like to explain this?” There’s a crease between Ed’s eyebrows that makes James want to sink into the floor as he reads the headline on Billboard magazine, _Frontenac Record’s top A &R rep a homewrecker according to John Silver’s ex._

“It’s really not what it looks like.”

Ed looks incredulous, “Really? Because what it looks like is you fucked one of our up and comers, destroyed his long term, loving, relationship, and then dumped him.”

James rubs his hands over his face, “That’s not even close.”

Ed digs through the pile, comes up with Rolling Stone and turns to page twenty three, his finger pointing at the last paragraph.

_As John upends his fifth beer, I can’t help but ask, “Are you in love with him.”_

_With an inelegant snort, worthy of even the most famous rock star, John replies, “Would I have destroyed my relationship if I wasn’t?” It’s clear to me that whatever has, or is, passing between John Silver, rock star in the making, and James Flint Frontenac Records golden boy, is complicated and heart wrenching for John, and to an even more heartbreaking degree, his former partner._

“Christ he’s dramatic, he should be writing for Harlequin.” James shoves the magazine away and won’t meet Ed’s eyes.

“What happened, James? I have to tell Denny something.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen, neither of us did. It got out of control. He was drunk and I was weak.”

Ed sighs and comes around to James’s side of the desk. He leans against it, his gaze trained out the window behind James head, “Are _you_ in love with _him_?”

James blows out a breath, feels his heart kick and his stomach clench, “Maybe. Probably.”

They spend the next two hours brainstorming in James’s office, coming up with a plan to spin the story to John’s and Frontenac’s advantage. James just hopes John meant what he said.

***

John sees him as soon as he comes off stage and the smile that he gets makes James’s heart flutter in his chest. John’s eyes flick over James’s shoulder to Ed standing stoically behind him and the smile drops immediately. James jerks his head at John, indicating he follow them. They weave through backstage to an open green room. Ed ushers them in and and then with his hand on the door knob, looks at James and says, “Five minutes.” James can already see the press running toward them, James’s appearance on the tour making tongues wag.

Once the door is shut James pulls John into an all consuming kiss that John melts into. His body presses against James, his hands squeeze James’s sides as their tongues touch for the first time in months They’d had one kiss, one brief, desperately hot kiss that James had never been able to forget. This one feels like coming home. John’s fingers work James’s shirt out of his pants, his short nails rake along James’s shoulder blades and James shudders as sensation rushes down his spine.

Pulling back reluctantly James strokes his thumbs over John’s cheeks, “I forgot how beautiful you are.”

John smiles even as his face colors, “Why are you here?”

James pulls him to the couch across the room and sits down, his hands cradling John’s, “I saw the Rolling Stone article.”

“Shit.” John pulls his hand free and stands to pace across the room, his back to James, “I didn’t remember what I’d said until I saw it and by then it was too late. I’m sorry if it caused you trouble with Ed.”

James swallows hard, “Is it true?”

John turns slowly, fear and apprehension lining his face, “Sometimes I wish it weren’t.”

James feels his lips twitch, “I’m here because Ed wants to spin it.” Sitting back on the couch, James spreads his arms along the back, a smile working it way across his face, “Since the feeling is mutual and all.”

James sees the exact second his words register. John rushes forward, climbing into James’s lap, straddling his hips as he crashes their mouths together. His hands tunnel through James’s hair, tilting his head, devouring his mouth. James’s hands work up underneath John’s t shirt, his skin is still damp with sweat from being on stage. He shivers when James’s fingers dig in bringing him closer. John grinds down, his cock rubbing against James’s both of them more than half hard already. James rips his mouth away, and licks across John’s throat. He nips at John’s neck, his tongue following behind to soothe the sting. Working John’s shirt over his head he leans John back over his arm, John’s hair falling down in waves as James licks at John’s chest. His hands fist in James’s hair, his fingers tight against James’s scalp as he moans James’s name and pushes a nipple into James’s mouth. James sucks at the tiny bud as it plumps up against his tongue.

Without warning Ed whips the door open and flash bulbs go off over his shoulder, “Son of a bitch. Don’t you dare fucking print those.” James looks up in time to see Ed scolding the press behind him just before slamming the door. “It hasn’t even been five minutes yet, Christ fucking sake have some decency.”

When James looks up to meet John’s eyes they’re heavy lidded, and black rimmed, his bottom lip is pulled into his mouth and James has to suppress a whimper at the picture John makes.

“What are the chances you can keep those out of the tabs?”

James hears Ed blow out a breath and then he smiles, “Slim and none. You’ve got him half naked on your lap for fucks sake. You know nothing sells better than sex, other than sex and forbidden love, which you two have in spades.”

John moves off of James’s lap, to sit beside him, his hand planted firmly on James’s thigh, “So what’s the plan?”

James shares a look with Ed before he speaks, “Forbidden love story of course. You and James tried so hard not to let it happen, but true love wins in the end. You never meant to hurt anyone, blah, blah, tried to never be alone together, blah, blah, you tried to work it out with Trevor, blah, blah, blah, you get the picture.”

“I want the coverage of Trevor to be minimal. I don’t want his life fucked up because of me.” John looks between them.

James nods, “We can do that.”

Ed looks at his watch and then to James, “Ready?”

“Where are we going?” John asks.

James clenches his jaw and tries to paste on a smile, “I have to leave with Ed.”

“What? Now? We…” John trails off, his checks going pink.

“Just until you get to Colorado. I’m taking an extended leave to finish the tour with you after that, but I have to tie up a few loose ends first.”

John stands, his hands going to his hair, “Colorado is two weeks from now.”

Ed wisely says, “I’ll just be outside, come out when you’re ready James, but remember we have a flight in an hour and a half.” He shuts the door with a quiet snick.

James stands and cups John’s face, his thumbs stroking over John’s cheeks, “I’m sorry, it’s the only way I’d be able to come out and join you.”

John lowers his lashes, “We have some time now.”

James barks out a laugh, “There’s no lock on that door.” James says just before lowering his head and taking John’s mouth in a wet kiss. The kiss is hungry and deep, reflecting the need both of them feel. James’s hands trail down John’s back, cup his ass to bring him closer, to grind them together. James can feel John, hard and hot, through his pants. He presses forward, his cock rubbing against John’s. John pulls back with a quiet whine.

“I’m so fucking desperate for you.” John pants out as he rubs himself sinuously along the front of James body and James has to grit his teeth to keep from bending John over the nearest surface. James presses his hand to the seam of John’s pants, his middle finger fitting between John’s legs perfectly, putting the barest hint of pressure on John’s hole, “Please, James.”

John alternates between rubbing himself against James’s hand and his cock and James is overwhelmed with want. James propels him backward until John’s back collides with the door. James quickly works John’s pants open and fits his hand inside. John’s cock is thick and hot. John moans as James’s hand grips him tightly before starting a rough glide. James knows this won’t take long so he throws his better judgement aside and slides to his knees, yanking John’s pants down as he goes. John’s cock pops free and James licks his lips. John is uncut, and thick, the head peeking out of the foreskin. He swipes his tongue over it and John shivers, a soft groan filtering down to him. He holds John at the base with one hand, the other playing with John’s foreskin, pulling it up and over and then back down so that he can lick at the head.

“Oh, fuck.” John’s head thuds against the door and James winces, knowing that if anyone is standing on the other side, and James suspects that Ed is, they would have heard it. John’s hands scrabble over his head and shoulders, his fingers digging in for purchase. James encourages John to fuck into his mouth as he looks up and meets John’s hot gaze. John’s mouth is hanging open, his eyes nearly black, his face a mask of want as he watches his cock slide in and out of James’s mouth, “Won’t last, wanted you too long.” John pets at his face and head, his hands clumsy as the pleasure starts to override his coordination. James’s hollows his cheeks, sucks hard at John’s cock as it presses in and out, his hand slipping back, his finger teasing over John’s hole. John’s hips start to stutter, his breath rasping out and when James looks up again, John's eyes are squeezed shut, his head back. John lets loose a long, deep, shuddering moan, that James knows without a doubt was heard outside, as he comes. John’s fingers are squeezing around his head, his hips pushing in and in as fluid rushes down his throat, James swallowing it as quickly as he can. John’s knees start to wobble, and James stands up quickly to support John’s weight, his mouth pressed to John’s ear, “You’re amazing.”

John hums, his arms going over James’s shoulders to bring him close, kisses his cheek and then this his mouth, his tongue twining with James. He moans softly when he tastes himself, sucking on James’s tongue. They’re broken apart by a knock on the door and the handle rattling. John quickly re-buttons his pants as they step out of the way. Ed takes a long sweeping look at them and rolls his eyes before saying, “James, we have to go.”

James nods, “I’ll be right out.”

Ed leaves reluctantly and James turns to John, “I’ll see you in Colorado.” He sweeps John into his arms and kisses the side of his neck, “Be prepared, sweetheat, I’m going to fuck you until neither of us can stand.” With a final hard slap to John’s ass he leaves the room and doesn’t look back.

The next two weeks are virtual torture for James. John calls him all hours of the day and night, voice needy and filled with want, telling James how much he wants him. James spends almost the entire two weeks in a state of semi arousal, his balls full and nearly painful. He’s making himself wait until he can be with John to get off, but John has no such qualms. He’ll call James in the middle of the night, much like he had months ago, his voice raw, halfway to orgasm, begging for James to take him, telling James how much he needs it. James listens to him come, hears the way he cries James’s name, hears the soft whines and the gasping breath as he white knuckles his own bedding to keep from touching himself.

***

James steps off the plane in Colorado in the midst of a July heatwave with humidity so oppressive he can barely breathe but it’s a small price to pay to be able to spend the next three months with John. As expected, word of James and John’s burgeoning relationship had hit the papers and he’s met with several of the press corp assigned to covering John and the band. He smiles tightly as he makes his way to the car waiting for him.

He’s in the company's box seats for tonight’s show, John knows he’s coming but by the time James gets to the arena John will already be on stage. James will leave the venue immediately after the show and they’ll meet up at the hotel. By the time James takes his place in his box, they’re three songs into the set. John’s boundless energy carries him all over the stage, his hair streaming behind him. James watches the crowd around him, they’re enraptured and James feels a sense of pride every time the cheers reach deafening levels. John fades into the background during Eleanor’s solo on their first single _Climber_ , making sure she gets the due she deserves. James doesn’t think he’s ever encountered a musician with an ego as small as John’s. He’s never seen the front man of a band give so much of their power away.

By the time their encores start, James is turned on, half hard and fully impatient but he’s soon glad he stayed. As soon as he hears the opening strains of Marcy Playground’s _Sex and Candy_ he starts to laugh. John says, “This is a little something for all of those of you who know that you’re going home to, or maybe with, someone special. You know who you are.”

John’s voice as he sings is pure sex and James doesn’t miss the furtive glances of those around him in the box. They all know who John is going home with tonight and they all recognize the sensual sway of John’s body as he sings.

Once the lights in the arena go up, James is bolting out the door and toward the entrance. Thanks fuck for private halls and hired cars. He gets to the hotel long before John, giving him enough time to set out a few drinks and relax. Forty minutes later he hears fumbling at the door and James swings it open. A grin bursts over John’s face as he rushes through the door, dropping all his bags just inside in favor of throwing himself at James. James presses him against the closed door, their mouths fused, tongues tangling as John reaches for James’s shirt. He’s tugging it over James’s head as he starts to move them.

John pushes him backward until the backs of his knees are hitting the bed and then his hands are ripping at James’s pants, tugging them down so his cock pops free and then the hot, wet swirl of John’s tongue. John hums around him, his mouth sliding down slow and sweet. John’s hands rub up and down James’s thighs, over his hips and stomach raising goosebumps. James shivers at the delicate touch even as his hips push up into John’s mouth. John hums, the feel of it traveling up James’s spine, making him shudder as arousal races through him. His hands fist in John’s hair as John bobs up and down on his cock, spit leaking out the side of his mouth. John all but chokes himself on James’s cock as he swallow around him. James tries to pull him off, this is going to be over way too fucking soon for his liking if John doesn’t stop.

“John. John, wait, I...oh fuck.” James’s cock jerks hard, his hips strain upward as his breath stops, his orgasm rolls over him in waves of absolute bliss. He empties himself in John’s waiting mouth, the soft hum of John’s approval sending even more shivers down his spine. White noise fills his ears and color flashes behind his closed eyes. He can’t feel his legs and when he opens his eyes John is smiling at him serenely as he undresses.

James manages to lever himself up into a sitting position in order to appreciate the slow way John bares his body. He tugs his shirt over his head and flings it off to the side before shaking his hair out. He rubs over his nipples, biting his lips as his eyelids flutter. Flicking the button on his pants open with one hand, he reaches inside with the other, a soft little noise rumbling out of him as he touches his own cock. After a few seconds John pushes his pants down and off and stands completely nude before James. James had known that John was built, he’d seen enough here and there but having the whole package on display before him makes his gut clench. John is gorgeous, golden skin, finely honed muscle. The deep v along his hips call James’s name.

“Come here.”

As soon as John is close enough to touch James topples him down to the bed, his body hovering over John’s until John pulls him down into a warm kiss. James falls into it head first, loving the feel of John’s skin against his. He lets his body settle along John’s keeping them connected from lips to toes, John’s smooth skin under his fingers. The kiss is slow and thorough, flowing from one into another seamlessly, pulling back for breaths before coming together once more. His hand slides down the inside of John’s thigh and John’s whimpers. He pushes out, spreading John’s legs further, his fingers reaching back, behind John’s balls, brushing overheated skin, making John jump against him before moving into the touch with a soft hum.

James pets over his hole with soft slow strokes of his fingertip until John is squirming against him, trying to get more, harder. James breaks the kiss and with little effort flips John to his stomach. Hovering over his back, James noses down John’s spine, placing one open mouth kiss after another against John’s skin. Putting him ass up on the bed, James smacks first one cheeks and then the other, making John gasp and moan, “Hold yourself open for me.”

John reaches back, pulls himself apart and then James licks over him. John moans loud and low, his hips jerking, his hole fluttering under the soft touch. James moans as the taste of John’s skin burst over his tongue and then he’s pushing forward, licking and sucking at John, wiggling his tongue to get inside as John cries out, his hands holding himself as open as he can, his fingers turning white with the effort. James rears up, rubs the head of his cock over John’s wet hole. John begs, “Please, please.” as he pushes back against James.

Reaching for the squat bottle on the nightstand James coats three fingers before rubbing a generous amount over John’s hole. He slides his fingers over the puckered flesh, watching it spasm under his touch before sliding the tips of two fingers in carefully. John’s body sucks at him, trying to pull him in further. _God_ he’s so hot inside, so tight around James’s fingers. He works his fingers in over and over, stretching at John’s rim, opening him as wide as he can, gets his tongue between his fingers just to hear John moan. John pushes back against his face, one hand at the back of James’s head holding him in place.

Pulling back, James reaches for a condom and then lies next to John on his back, “Want you to ride me.” John scrambles over James’s legs as James slips the condom on and lubes his cock. He holds himself steady while John starts to lower himself, hands planted on James’s chest. James watches his face, sees the wince as James starts to breach him, waits for the crease between his brow to smooth out before James’s takes John’s hips in his hands. He plants his feet and pushes up. John chokes on a startled breath, but his body shivers, loosens and then he’s fully seated, his ass pressed against James’s thighs, his balls tight to James’s pelvic bone. John rolls his hips, hums softly as his eyes pop open. James pets at John’s hips, his fingers fitting into the grooves of his pelvis, thumbs framing John’s cock where it sits straight up against John’s stomach. He strokes his fingers lightly down the underside and John sucks in a sharp breath, his hips starting to move. John sits astride him, his hair hanging down his back, his eyes half lidded as he lifts and lowers himself slowly, “You’re fucking gorgeous, taking my cock like that.” James reaches up, thumbs at John’s right nipple before pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

John gasps, a shudder running down his spine as he rocks back and forth slowly, “God, James, you feel so fucking good. So fucking big.” Planting his feet James presses up, John make a noise that’s barely human, eyes rolling up in his head, “Again.” The word is slurred. John leans forward, his hair falling around them as James fucks into from below, “Isn’t going to take much, so fucking hard for you.”

Meeting him thrust for thrust, John’s little mewling sounds are going to straight to James’s cock, making him feel like he hasn’t already come. James can feel the sweat between them, feel John’s cock rubbing against his stomach, feels John’s panting breath on his neck. James palms John’s hips, holds him steady as he presses up and up and up, changes the angle and John shouts, “Oh, fuck, right there.” James hammers home hard and fast and then John is gasping, body shaking as James feels the wet heat spread between them. Falling forward, John keeps rolling his hips, little whining noises making James crazy, as his ass squeezes impossibly tight around James’s cock. James flips him quickly, slides back in and fucks John for all he’s worth. There’s sweat running down his back, his arms are shaking, hair hanging in his face, John’s legs wrapped tight around his waist as he urges James on. He pulls James down into a kiss. It’s sloppy and wet, barely even a kiss seeing as how James can hardly catch his breath.

John gets his hand between them, his fingers slipping over James’s nipples before getting a grip and twisting. The pain sears through James’s body, straight to his cock. His hips stutter, two more hard driving thrusts and then he’s filling the condom, one shudder after another wracking his body as he gulps in air, his vision going black as he sinks down onto John.

John hums in his ear, his mouth pressing tiny kisses to the side of his head, his hands running down James’s back, soothing him.

“Son of a bitch.” James pants.

John laughs under him, a full body laugh that shakes them both. James moves off to the side, ties off the condom and drops it over the side of the bed. He pulls John into him and buries his face in John’s hair, “I’m glad I’m finally here.”

Wrapping his arms around James, John shuffles closer until they’re touching almost every where, “Not nearly as glad as I am.”

It’s the last thing he says before he drops off to sleep. James doesn’t last much longer after he pulls the covers over them.

***

James wakes up to a warm body curled into his and it takes a few seconds to realize where he’s at and what’s happening. Once he does his eyes snap open to verify that yes, John is indeed asleep next to him, hair fanned out behind him, soft puffs of breath stirring the hair on James’s chest. James’s heart constricts and in that single instant he realizes just what this means to him, what John means to him and the lengths to which he will go to keep John by his side. He’s already composing his resignation letter in his head when John starts to snuffle and shift around.

His eyes open blearily, his face frowning until he catches sight of James and then a smile breaks out, stretching his lips wide.

James is just about to drag John under him when his phone rings. He intends to ignore it until he notices Ed’s name flash across the screen. He groans but sits up and accepts the call.

“I’ve sent you a video, you need to watch it immediately. We need to formulate an answer.” Ed’s voice is as serious as James has ever heard it.

“A video of what?” James can feel apprehension creeping in.

“Just watch it, James. And talk to John.” James cuts his eyes over to John who is lounging against the headboard.

“Alright, I’ll call you later.”

James disconnects the call and opens his email. There’s a message from Ed with a YouTube link. He settles next to John and click plays.

Trevor’s face pops up, he’s walking down the street being followed by TMZ as they shout questions at him.

_“Trevor, what kind of things is John into?"_

James can see John’s face fall, his complexion going white. The video jumps from the street to the TMZ newsroom, where Harvey asks one of his guys what’s going on, as if he doesn't already fucking know that sleazy bastard.

_“This video leaked yesterday.” One of them answers and points at a screen across the room._

The camera in the newsroom points at the black screen, there’s only the sound of raised voices, because the camera that's filming it is pointed at the floor. James realizes one of the press corp on the tour had filmed it and sent it to TMZ. When James finds out who he's going to have their job.

_“Why, because I don’t want to hurt you during sex? Because I won’t participate in your kinky weird ass sex fantasy shit?”_

James can hear the contempt in Trevor’s tone and he winces.

_“Trevor, that’s not--”_

_“Don’t fucking bullshit me, John. I fucking saw you the last time. Bruises and welts, finger imprints on your throat, John. And lets not forget your weird fucking fetish about old men. How can you even get it up for him? He’s almost twice your age.”_

_“Oh. fuck you. He’s only ten years older than me. And you can shove your fucking superiority complex up your god damn ass. I’m tired of fucking apologizing. I fucked up, I get it, you can stop persecuting me for it any fucking day.”_

_“I’m not persecuting you, I’m trying to understand you. I just want you to be normal, us to be normal. I love you, John. I thought you loved me.”_

_The declaration is met with silence and then Trevor laughs bitterly, “You don’t do you? You never have. Five years and I’ve never been enough. But him, you’d give up everything for him.” Trevor’s voice is thick, emotion choking the words._

_When John speaks again it’s quiet, final, “You should go home. I’ll have Charles pack up my stuff and store it, you can keep the apartment. I think it’s best for both of us if we move on.”_

_The newsroom camera pans back to Harvey as he smiles, “I don’t know guys, sounds a lot like kink shaming to me.” The bullpen erupts in laughter and goes back to the video of Trevor on the street._

_“It's not the first time he’s had an itch to scratch, he always comes crawling back to me in the end.”_

The screen goes dark and the video is over. John is moving before James can stop him, picking his pants up off the floor and shoving his legs into them roughly.

“John.”

John says nothing, just shakes his head, grabs his cigarettes off the table and heads for the door, shirtless and shoe less.

“John you need a shirt at least.”

Snagging James’s shirt from last night off the chair he keeps walking until the door slams behind him. James blows out a breath and falls back to the bed. He knows better than to go searching for him, so he waits.

James gets up and dresses before brushing his teeth and ordering room service. They’ve got a blessed three days off and James is determined to iron this out before they leave this hotel. Half an hour later there’s knocking on the door.

John stands outside with half a smile, “Forgot a key.”

James ushers him back in looking both ways down the hall to see if he was followed.

“We need to talk about this.”

“Why?” John tosses his cigarettes on the table and grabs a bottle of water off the room service cart.

“Because I’d like to know if I’m a fucking phase or not.”

“Are you shitting me right now? Jesus fucking Christ no, you’re not a phase. Trevor was the phase.” John sighs, scrubs a hand over his face, “I tried you know, I really did.” John collapses into a wing back chair, his leg bouncing, his hands twitching.

James sits on the couch opposite him, “So tell me about it. I want this to work with you John, but we have to upfront here, we’re already in the spotlight and anything we’re not on the same page about is going to be magnified tenfold. We have to present a united front.”

John chews on his bottom lip before reaching for a cigarette, “He’s right, I never loved him.”

James pushes an empty water glass toward John before handing him a lighter. The snick of it is loud between them until John starts talking, “I cheated on him, early on, we’d been together a couple months and I got drunk.”

Getting up and pacing away so his back is to James he continues, “I’d been out with the girls and there was a guy at the bar. I’ve always been...needed something more, something different. Sometimes you can just look at someone and know that they’ve got what you need. That’s what happened. I went home with him.”

John comes back to the chair, sits, stubs the cigarette out in the glass, slumps back, “I put off seeing Trevor as long as I could because I knew there were marks I couldn’t explain, but he showed up at my apartment. I tried to explain that I wasn’t hurt, that I hadn’t been forced, that I had wanted it that rough. He just kept asking why. It’s not something you can put into words, you know? At least I couldn’t.”

Closing his eyes, John takes a deep breath, “He wanted to get me help.” John chokes on a laugh, “Help, like there was something wrong with me.”

James slides to the floor and knee walks across to John. He puts his hands on John’s thighs, rubs up and down slowly, gently, John’s eyes spring open, “And then I saw you in the crowd that first night and my whole body came alive. I prayed to never see you again. But then there you were backstage, offering us everything we’d been working for.” His hands cover James’s, winding their fingers together before bringing one hand up to put it over his wildly beating heart.

“I tried not to want you. But every time you were near me my skin felt like it was on fire, my brain was fuzzy. Yeah, there are things Trevor wouldn’t, couldn’t do for me. Desires I’d tried to stifle, parts of myself that I’d locked away.” John slides out of the chair and into James’s lap, his eyes heavy, “One look at you and I knew it was all over with Trevor because all I could think about was submitting to you. One look and I knew you could, you would give me everything I needed and more.”

John’s teeth sink into his jugular and James moans. He pushes the chair out the way and lays John out in front of him. His face is flushed, his eyes dark, hunger written in the tilt of his mouth. John’s hands reach for him but James snags his wrists in a tight grip, brings them above John’s head and presses them into the floor, his meaning clear, _stay_. John’s nod is infinitesimal, surrender evident in the way his body relaxes against the carpet. James drags his shirt over John’s head before wrapping it around John’s wrists, confining him even further. John’s eyelids flutter as he swallows hard. James tilts John’s head up, his fingers wrapped just under John’s chin as he bites at the skin of John’s neck. John’s body jerks against his, a small moan echoing around them. James presses his thigh against John’s cock, a soft whoosh of air is all that passes John’s lips.

James slowly works his way down John’s chest, his tongue licking at the soft skin over John’s collarbone before sucking a hard kiss into the skin that makes John groan. He licks over John’s nipples, and then bites at them sharply. John gasps, his back arching as his head turns on a low moan. James gets them both wet and hard and then blows air across them making John shiver. Scraping his teeth down John’s abdomen James sucks at John’s belly button, his tongue pressing in, licking at the center before rimming it in a facsimile of what he’d done last night to John’s ass. If John’s soft stuttering _oh_ is any indication John is remembering it too. He doesn’t bother with the buttons or zip on John’s jeans, just yanks them down John’s legs until he can wrap John’s ankles with the denim, effectively trapping him again, making him virtually helpless, limiting any movement he might think to make.

James licks through the dense hair at the base of John’s cock, his tongue laving at the juncture of bone and cartilage. He presses the head flat to John’s stomach, licks up the thick vein on the underside, feels the twitch of John’s hips, hears him moan James’s name. James releases him before quickly slapping the head of John’s cock with his fingers so that it bounces. John chokes on a breath, his body shakes, a soft _please_ hitting James in the solar plexus. He does it three more times, and by the time he takes John into his mouth he’s wet at the tip and panting hard. He sucks John down in one smooth move, his throat closing around the head. The hint of teeth makes John whine as James simultaneously tugs roughly at his sac. He’s so responsive to every touch, so needy for what James can give him.

Flicking his eyes up, James watches John. His eyes are closed, mouth open, face suffused with pleasure as James sucks him. Long, hard draw up, twisting, wet slide down. John’s hips lift into the rhythm, his soft moans urging James on. James gets to his knees, his hands on John’s hips, encourages him to thrust into James’s mouth. John pushes in, his cock hitting the back of James’s throat and sliding further, choking off James’s air with every third stroke and James loves it as much as John, loves having his mouth used, loves the stretch of his jaw, loves the strong taste of John on his tongue, the smell of sex and sweat filling his senses, he moans around John’s cock.

“Oh, fuck, James, I’m gonna come.”

James slams John’s hips back to the floor follows him down, takes John deep, swallows around him reflexively, John’s hips pushing up and in and then he’s pulsing down James’s throat hot and thick, a near sob ripped out of John’s throat as his body bows, muscles tightening. Sitting back on his heels James watches John come down, a smile working it way across his face. James pulls John’s jeans all the way off freeing his legs before doing the same with his wrists. John scrambles to sit up, kisses James hotly before pushing him backward and crawling into his lap. John rubs himself against James, James’s cock settling into John’s crack, his hand running up into James’s hair to angle his head for the deep kiss John gives him. James once again takes John’s writs in one hand. He pulls John’s arms behind his back, holds them still so John can’t touch, can’t move. James pushes up with his hips, his cock sliding in the sweat between John’s cheeks, his cock head rubbing at John’s rim. John whines in the back of his throat as James says, “Ask me for it.”

John’s mouth is pressed against James’s neck, his breath panting out against James’s skin, “Fuck me, daddy, give me your cock. I need it, please.”

And this is the last piece, that last of what Trevor couldn’t give him, what John needs as much as the air he breathes, but something that Trevor didn’t understand, something that Trevor could never do. James strokes his back, lays him out, his fingers testing the give of John’s body, still wet and loose from last night. He works three fingers in, John’s body parting around him easily, his hips pressing down and back, looking for more, his eyes glassy as they watch James. He reaches across for the bottle on the nightstand, upends it on his cock, smooths it down and then slides into John in one smooth, effortless glide as he hovers over John, “That’s what you need isn’t it? You need someone to fuck you like they mean it.”

John arches under him, his hands sliding against James’s back, his fingers digging in as he writhes on James’s cock, “God, yes.”

James pulls out and drill home hard and fast, forcing John across the floor. John cries out, his body shuddering, his legs clenching around James’s waist. Rearing back James’s takes John’s thighs in his hands, pulls John’s legs wide and fucks in with sharp, driving thrusts. John’s hands wrap around James’s wrists, his fingers squeezing, “Harder.”

Pulling out James flips him, yanks him up to his knees and shoves back in. John groans, the sound is pure pleasure as he ruts back to meet James thrust for thrust. James holds John’s hips in a bruising grip, fingers digging into. He shakes his head, sweat flying off the ends of his hair, some of it landing on John’s back. John’s own head is hanging between his arms as he gasps. James keeps up the punishing rhythm until John’s arms go out from under him and he’s on his forearms, head pressed into his elbow, body shaking as he moans non stop. James sits back, pulls John with him, his hand taking hold of John’s cock immediately. He fucks up and in, his fist working the head of John’s cock in a tight counter rhythm. John’s head rolls against James’s shoulder, his eyes closed, a flush coloring his skin from cheeks to pecs, mouth open with panting breath. He’s so fucking gorgeous James can’t takes his eyes off of him.

John whimpers, his head turning into James’s neck, “Make me come, please, daddy. I need to come.”

The words go directly to James’s cock. He tightens his fist, changes the angle and fucks in hard, the sound of flesh coming together loud around them. John rolls his body in a counter rhythm, using what little leverage he has to bounce himself on James’s cock. John’s head digs into his shoulder, “Yes, fucking Christ, yes, now.” His hand squeezes around James’s on his cock and with a shuddering, keening wail John comes over both their hands, his ass locking down on James’s cock, keeping him from moving at all. James bites into John’s shoulder, his own orgasm sneaking up on him as John’s ass milks him rhythmically. James’s realizes with a start he forgot the condom. John’s body goes limp on top of him, shivering with aftershocks as James rolls his hips with short little pulses, prolonging it for both of them.

John’s lips move where they’re pressed to his throat, “Now you know part of my dirty little secret.” James hears the apprehension in his voice.

“Good fucking thing I like it then.” James heaves them both up and carries John to the bed, “You’re about learn one of mine.”

James flips him to his stomach and pushes his legs apart to settle between them. He opens John up and licks into him, “Oh fuck.” John moans above him. John cants his hips making it easier for James to lick him clean. Teasing circles, and the quick jabs with his tongue, interspersed with soft little kitten licks. James sucks at him until there’s nothing left and John is writhing on the bed, his cock hard once more. James spins him over, sucks his cock down while John cries out, tries to push James off.

“I can’t, James, I can’t.” John’s hands keeps pushing at James, enough so that James gets up and gets his belt, he loops it around John’s hands and then secures it to the headboard. John’s eyes go dark, his breath shallow as James tests the give of John’s confinement.

“You can, you will.” James tells him before swallowing his cock once more.

James works him slowly, licking up one side, down the other, tonguing at the thick vein on the underside, mouth tight and cheeks hollow until John starts lifting into the suction, his weak protests turning to sounds of desperate pleasure. James seals his lips under the head, his tongue against the bundle of nerves there, two fingers sliding into John’s ass, reaching up and rubbing while his thumb rubs along John’s perineum from the outside.

John starts to thrash above him, “Fuck, James, fuck, fuck.” He tries to press up but James holds him in place forcing him to wait for it. “Shit, James, fucking god.” John’s words cut off replaced by a high whining wail, his cock jerks under James’s lips before pulsing out nothing more than a thin dribble that runs down his cock. John’s body bows up, his breath caught and held, his mouth open, body shaking from head to toe before choking out a breath and falling back to the bed covered in a fine sheen of sweat. John looks at him, blinks twice and then passes out.

James gets a cloth and wipes John down. John shifts, calls James’s name in his sleep making James smile, making him wonder how many times he’d done it while sleeping next to Trevor. Wondering if that’s what fueled the fights, John unable to control his unconscious mind and desires.

John had been right about one thing, James can absolutely give him what Trevor couldn’t, and so much more. James intends to do everything in his power to show John just how good it can be.

***

_Epilogue, outsider POV._

A week after James joins the tour Dax and a cameraman are hanging out next to the Starbucks James just entered. They know this is the only shot TMZ is going to get at having James on camera. As soon as he walks out they shove the camera at him, “James, do you worry about John going back to Trevor like he said? Do you worry he’ll cheat on you too? Once a cheater always a cheater, right?”

James laughs and pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head, “Those were the words of a bitter man who couldn’t satisfy his lover. Satisfied men don’t stray, as I think you’ll see over time.” James pops his sunglasses back down and walks off. Dax follows him the three blocks back to the venue and with a zoom lense gets a birds eye view of James’s welcome back.

The busses are parked in a long line behind the venue for that evening’s show and John is propped against the side of one of them having an animated discussion with Anne when James walks up. He hands the coffee’s off to her before turning to John. John smiles at hm, head tilted to the side, the corner of his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. James frames John’s shoulders with arms, palms flat on the side of the bus, his body close but not touching. John tips his head up and Dax can already see the way John’s body starts to loosen, and then James kisses him. Dax fist pumps, they just hit the fucking jackpot.

Even from here Dax can feel the heat of that kiss. He watches the way John yields to James, the way his body sways toward James’s. James’s left hand lands in the middle of John’s back, slides down to cup his ass and then he pulls John into him. John breaks the kiss, his head falling back, as James sucks a mark low on John’s throat. John’s head lolls, his face turning toward Dax and Dax gets a good look. He’d always thought that he knew what desire was, knew how want felt, but one look at the wanton, desperate need on John’s face tells him that what he thought he knew was nothing compared to this. John’s heavy lidded eyes open and the need Dax sees in John’s eyes forces him to move in front of the camera.

“What are you doing, move. It’s just getting good.” The cameraman tries to push Dax out of the way but he won’t budge. Some things don’t need to be aired on TV for the whole world to see. In this moment Dax can see the vulnerability in John, see that he lays himself bare for James. It's something Dax himself has never felt comfortable doing. Later when they get back to the studio, Dax erases everything just after the kiss starts.

The next day in the bullpen, viewing the video Harvey says, “I give it a year.”

“I don’t think so. I think this might be the real deal for them.” Dax says

Harvey shrugs and they move on to the next story.


End file.
